


scare the children

by Areiton



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Declarations Of Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Halloween, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-29 19:48:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16271126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Areiton/pseuds/Areiton
Summary: “Stiles, are you wearingfangs?” Peter demands, incredulously.“It’s for thechildren,” Stiles hisses.





	scare the children

Stiles and Peter get stuck together because they  _ always _ get stuck together. Stiles thinks it’s a combination of frail human and (mostly) reformed sociopath that makes Derek sleep better at night which, Stiles argues, is proof Derek Hale needs a fuckton of therapy. 

There’s a thing killing animals in the woods,  and if three years of the supernatural has taught them anything it’s that a thing killing animals will turn into a thing killing people. So Stiles is here, and Peter is here, and they’re looking through the bestiary, and Stiles is  _ pissed. _

It’s not that he minds being around Peter--he doesn’t. They get along well, the snark and sass plays well between them. Peter is an asshole, but he’s an asshole who can appreciate Stiles uniquely abrasive charm. 

He  _ does _ appreciate it. Stiles has seen him, the way pale blue eyes follow him when they’re in the same room, linger too long, warm when Stiles leans into his space or takes a gift of food or drink or knowledge from Peter’s hand. 

He isn’t  _ stupid _ , wouldn’t have caught Peter’s eye if he was, so he knows--and he’s good with it, is patiently waiting for the wolf to say something. 

So usually he doesn’t mind being pushed together for research while the pack does patrol, but it’s Halloween and he has a tradition, dammit. 

Peter blinks, when he stomps downstairs. He’s dressed in a fitted pair of leather pants, a frothy white shirt open almost to the navel, and a long black cloak edged in crimson. His hair is slicked back and there’s lipstick on his lips and--

“Stiles, are you wearing  _ fangs?”  _ Peter demands, incredulously.

“It’s for the  _ children _ ,” Stiles hisses and Peter wisely snaps his mouth shut and nods, a bobble head agreement. 

He ignores the bemused werewolf as he comes to lean over the table, the sprawled out research. 

“Do you do this often?” Peter asks, softly and Stiles shrugs.

“Mom liked to--she was always the sweet one at the door handing out candy, and Dad would jump out of the bushes and terrify the children.” 

Stiles grins, his expression wistful and fond and then shrugs. “Now I just hand out the candy, but I like dressing up for them, you know?” 

“And you went with vampire?” 

“If I dressed up like a werewolf, you’d get the idea I want a furry problem,” Stiles shot back and Peter smirked at him. 

 

~*~

 

It happens when the third wave of trick or treaters come to the door. The first is a little girl clinging to her father’s hand, dressed like a princess and Stiles almost melts when Peter couches in front of her with a bucket of candy and a gravely serious expression, cooing over her dress and listening as she tells him about it. When she runs out of words and is loaded down with candy, she scoots away. 

The second is pair of twins, tiny and drunken as they stumble up the steps, thing one and thing two between a Cat in the Hat older sister. Peter stays back and lets Stiles fawn over them, and give out candy, and he slips back into the house as they carefully walk back down the driveway. 

The third group--they’re a bunch of young teenagers, laughing and jostling each other, half in costume as the parade up to the door, and Stiles grins widely as he hands out candy, flashing his fangs and playing up the part while the kids laugh at him. 

They get three steps down the yard, when Peter bursts out of the bushes, half shifted and  _ roars. _

The kids take off, screaming, and Stiles stares at Peter in shocked delight as the werewolf features melt away and Peter--Peter  _ laughs. _

Peter laughs a lot, smirks at the whole world like he’s got a secret, laughs like he’s mocking you, sometimes smiles in this teasing, sly dirty way--but he rarely just... _ smiles _ . With no thought or agenda, no performance or strings to pull. 

Stiles has never seen him smile like that, giggling to himself, eyes bright and mischievous, so fucking pleased with himself he’s lit up with it. 

He’s beautiful and Stiles loves him. 

“I love you,” he breathes and Peter’s head snaps up, the smile freezing, eyes wide and almost afraid, before Stiles steps closer, determined. “I love you,” he says again, and Peter--

Peter smiles. Soft and sweet and full, and it takes Stiles’ breath away as the werewolf crowds into him, pushes him into the wall and kisses him, hard and deep, almost begging. 

Stiles thinks that as beautiful as his smile is, it tastes even better. 

 

~*~

 

The second time they’re interrupted by the doorbell ringing, Peter snarls and dumps the candy in a bowl on the front porch, slams the door and drags Stiles upstairs. 

They’re quiet enough that no neighborhood children are traumatized--but only just. And when he wakes up, Stiles rolls over and Peter smiles at him. 


End file.
